


The Night We Met

by mitchymarns



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 01:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20145577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitchymarns/pseuds/mitchymarns
Summary: Everything after the failed attempt at ending the world should've been perfect. He had saved the world, thwarted his boss, confused and frightened the demons of hell and the angels of heaven so much so that they had agreed to leave them alone for good, and gotten the true love of his life that he had been pining after for the better part of six thousand years. Life was incredible. In theory, of course.The memory of his fall is haunting Crowley a little more than usual tonight. So much so that he wishes he could just go back to the night he and Aziraphale met- even before that day in Eden.





	The Night We Met

**Author's Note:**

> Good Omens has definitely become my new obsession, so much so that I'm taking a brief hiatus from working on my own original novel and accompanying comic to write on Aziraphale and Crowley because not only is their relationship the freaking best, but also the story in the show and the book is just so incredible! I can't wait to write more on these two loveable idiots! <3
> 
> Also I was having some MAJOR struggles with formatting on this one, so forgive me if anything looks out of place! 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think and as always, thanks for reading and enjoy some ineffable husbands!
> 
> P.S: Title and opening italics definitely based off of Lord Huron's The Night We Met... I have a slight musical obsession with Lord Huron as well, and immediately thought of Crowley and Zira when I heard that song!

_I am not the only traveler_  
_Who has not repaid his debt_  
_I’ve been searching for a trail to follow_  
_Again_  
_Take me back to the night we met_

__

_ _ __ _ _

_ __ _

Disgraceful. That’s what he was. One disgraceful angel who asked too many questions one too many times. One who paid the ultimate price for such a seemingly innocent offense. 

One who never really meant to fall down as far as he had. 

The black wings reflecting back at him in the mirror were a firm and grim reminder of what he was, had been, and would continue to be for the foreseeable future. The light bounced off of the well groomed feathers, but where white feathers would’ve shone back playful and bright, nearly iridescent, his ebony ones swallowed the light whole, just as the darkness had him all those long, dragging centuries ago.  


The fall was not something he made a habit of remembering, preferring to repress it as deep and as far down inside of his mind as humanly-demonly?- possible. However, the painful memories often resurfaced, as painful memories always do, through his life in often the most ridiculous places. Whether it be with the ugly dark spots on his plants, or with these ugly black wings on him reflecting back at him in his flat's mirror, the fall refused to let him ever forget.  


Subconsciously, he ran a hand over the soft feathers, pretending not to notice or feel how his hand trembled as his fingers stroked along each individual feather. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough, willing his mind to travel all the way back, he could almost imagine how he had looked before: long and wild scarlet curls, beautiful gold eyes with normal pupils, and blindingly bright white, soft, and beautiful feathered wings…  


The comforting illusion was shattered by a sharp pain in his left wing, and his eyes snapped open to look; clutched tightly in his right hand was a single black feather, obviously one of his. Seeing the feather detached broke something inside of him, and before he realized it, tears were streaming from his eyes, shoulders shaking in uncontrollable silent sobs- the kind he only allowed himself to indulge him when he was absolutely and positively alone. 

“Crowley?” 

The sound of his name had Crowley whipping around, left hand fumbling for his sunglasses as his right hand clumsily pocketed the broken feather. He cursed under his breath as he wiped angrily at the tear tracks underneath his eyes: he had completely forgotten that he had invited, enthusiastically no less, the angel to his place.  


“Oh, hey Aziraphale!” Crowley’s normally easy, energetic tone was most obviously forced. Seeing the angel’s worried expression, he lamely added, “What brings you up to my room?”  


“Well, first of all we’re in your living room. We were watching a movie in your actual room before you got up and told me you were coming down here to grab something,” Crowley winced; his mind had seemingly taken a permanent vacation that night, “You’ve been down here for an extended period of time, so I figured I better come see what was taking you.” Aziraphale’s eyes and tone softened as he questioned, “So what are you doing down here, my dear?”

For once, the demon had no words to shoot back in a response to him. Crowley let his eyes drop to the floor beneath his glasses, arms wrapping tightly around his midsection as he choked and fumbled his way through an answer, “I.. I was just- you know, doing, uhm…” Embarrassed at his stuttering, humiliated by the real reason, Crowley just hung his head, fully biting his lip and nearly drawing blood, sighing, “It was nothing, angel, don’t worry about it. Me, I mean.”  


Aziraphale was silent for a beat before reaching forward and grabbing Crowley, who let out a surprised hiss as Aziraphale yanked him closer into a tight hug. “Honestly, dear, we’ve known each other for centuries. You seriously cannot believe that you can still fool me.” Aziraphale’s wings manifested, coming to encircle the pair of them as he drew Crowley even closer, “You don’t have to tell me now, if that’s what you’d prefer. But I wish you knew you didn’t have to go through whatever it is alone-”  


He trailed off as Crowley let out a hiccuping sob, "Crowley?... Are you crying?"  


With his glasses flopping uselessly to the floor, head buried in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, and arms wound around the angel, nearly constricting him, Crowley made a pretty unconvincing argument, especially as his ‘s’ elongated into a stressed hiss, as he weakly answered, “No… Demonsss don’ fucking cry, Aziraphale.”  


“No, I suppose they don’t. My mistake, of course.” He decided that Crowley’s pride- what was left of it- was more important than pestering him. The demon always ended up telling him what was wrong, anyway, in the end.  


However, time dragged on. Crowley’s sobs got louder. Aziraphale’s heart sunk lower. Perhaps this time he would have to be coaxed into talking, not that Aziraphale wanted to cause Crowley more grief by acknowledging his breakdown once again. Yet, he was convinced that whatever had made Crowley this unsettled needed to be dealt with, and he wasn’t going to leave him to deal with it on his own.  


Just as he was about to address Crowley, his partner’s broken voice caught him by surprise, “Do you remember when we met, angel?”  


Taken aback, Aziraphale slowly nodded, “Of course I do, Crowley. How could I forget? The garden of eden, my sword, you scaring the dickens out of me when you slithered right next to me-”  
“No, angel, not the garden!” Crowley despaired, looking up from his shoulder. Aziraphale wanted to cry from the look in Crowley’s eyes, and likewise, Crowley wanted to curl up and hide from the intensity of what he was feeling. “Before the garden. When I was a- well, you know…”  


“An angel?” Aziraphale answered for him, “Before you fell?” Crowley winced, violently recoiling as if Aziraphale had struck him.  


Ah. That’s what this was about.  


“That… That would be it,” Crowley croaked out, “I was just thinking about it, I guess, what I used to look like and how I used to be…” He trailed off, eyes slipping tightly shut.  
Aziraphale tilted his head and hummed lightly, not answering right away. Finally, the silence got to be, predictably, too much for Crowley, and he burst out, “What? What’s on your mind, Aziraphale?”  


Privately, his insecurities ate away at him, fearing that his outburst, especially at such a sensitive topic between the pair of them and their former sides, had scared the love of his life away from him.  


A small smile worked its way onto Aziraphale’s features as he answered, speaking in a light tone, “Crowley, my dear boy, are you insinuating that I would’ve liked you better if you had stayed as you were before you fell?”  


“Yeah, I guess so… We would’ve been on the same side right from the very beginning when we first met, through all of this time. Our relationship would’ve never been so complicated or needed to be kept a secret, and-”  


“It definitely wouldn’t have worked.” Aziraphale tsked, reveling in the incredulous look that Crowley gave him.  


“Wait, what?”  


“You heard me.” Aziraphale couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips, “We never would’ve worked out. Friends, maybe. But I never would’ve fallen in love with that Crowley- sorry, Rapheal, I mean.” Crowley’s eye twitched at the mention of his old name.  


Before Crowley could pose the question that was so obviously on his mind, and lips, Aziraphale beat him to it, rolling with the momentum he had, “You’re right- well, sort of at any rate. It wouldn't have had to be kept a secret, or been so complicated at times, but being on the same side wouldn’t have done either of us any favors. For starters, we never would’ve wanted to break any rules and we wouldn’t have been able to, or even wanted, to save the Earth from Armageddon. Secondly, I fear that you would’ve turned out to be too much like Gabriel if you had stayed in heaven for all these years.”  


Crowley gave Aziraphale a reproachful look, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Oh, shut up! I never in thousands of years would ever stoop so low as to be on the same level as Gabriel.”  


“You’re right. That’d be a pretty difficult task to stoop so low as he has,” Aziraphale beamed as Crowley gave a full, lopsided smile down at him. Reaching one hand to cup the demon’s face, he rocked up onto the tips of his toes and ghosted a whisper into Crowley’s left ear, “But do you want to know the real reason why we wouldn’t have worked?”  


Crowley, who melted into Aziraphale’s gentle touch with a peaceful look on his previously broken face, murmured back, “Of course, angel. Shoot.”  


Raising his other hand to stroke around Crowley’s soft, downy raven feathers, Aziraphale leaned his head in closer to Crowley’s and grinned, “Because you are you, and I think you’re absolutely incredible as you are now. Right now, in this moment, and every moment you’ve been on this Earth. You are completely perfect, and I wouldn’t change one bit of you for the world.” Faltering only for a moment, Aziraphale pressed on, “You’ve literally been with me through everything, Crowley. And- and I love you so much, you wiley damned serpent.”  


The ‘L’ word seemed to take Crowley by surprise. His jaw dropped in what would’ve been a comical reaction had Aziraphale’s nerves not already been shot by the weight of what he had just admitted and put out in the open.  


However, Aziraphale didn’t have to worry for long.”You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” Crowley’s voice was revenant, gazing upon Aziraphale with all the love in the world.  


“That’s lovely, dear, but I’ve been waiting just as long, if you don’t mind-” Aziraphale never got to finish his tangent. Crowley had grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer and closing the distance between the two of them.  


The kiss didn’t last long, certainly not long enough to make up for six thousand years wasted in pining, but it was everything that both of them had longed so much for. Crowley pulled away first, resting his forehead against Aziraphale’s with a content smile on his face and a bright red blush covering the rest of his features.  


“I love you too, Aziraphale. So fucking much.” After a pause, Crowley added, black feathered wings coming around to lightly brush over their white counterpart, “And thank you. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you, angel.”  


“I don’t know what I’d do without you either, Crowley.”


End file.
